Sweetness Follows
by Without Worth
Summary: Told from Duo's point of view. We all know it is hard when the one you desire desires someone else-extremely hard. So what's a seventeen year old virgin supposed to do? Form a game plan. Rated R for implied sex and self gratification. Sequel pending.
1. For the Sake of Pleasure

Contains implied 1x3, self gratification, etc. On a last note, I am a strict 1x2x1 fan, believe me. So should I decide to finish this tale it will end with Duo and Heero forming a relationship. Call me a sap, but I just adore Heero and Duo together. Enjoy!

For the Sake of Pleasure

I was begrudgingly roused from a dream, from which adapt hands were guided along the planes of my torso, warm lips brushed the flesh of my outer thighs, a taunting gesture, teasing skin, keenly tormenting. Yes, I was roused from a dream, from where soft intrepid blue eyes gazed back into my own, searching,with a slight curve of a smile, so subtle but conveying such intense emotion. A dream where your mouth was solely mine, so acutely warm-delivering words of comfort tumbling from lips so supple and smooth, as they trace a moist line down my abdomen. I was roused from this divine place of solace, by the echo of a guttural moan, gradually developing into a crescendo, low groans and cries, filtering into my earshot, from the room down the hall. My eyes flutter open,and for a brief second, I wonder if such utterances had slipped from my own lips. No such luck. There is a faint rumble, the creak of bedsprings, and the light rapping of the wooden bed frame against the dry wall. I wake to an empty bed, cold and uninviting. I sealed my eyes and cursed.

I dispelled a low growl in my throat, and shifted onto my stomach, smashing my face into a pillow, then emitted a dry hiss, as I realize I am pinching my erection beneath my weight and the mattress. Rolling over quickly onto my back once more, I gaze up into darkness, idly watching as the headlights of a passing car dance across the ceiling. I wonder if Heero is on top, I assume he is, since as stubborn as he is, I can't imagine him allowing another to penetrate him without some resistance, for that matter neither would I. No pun intended. I also wonder, if those gruff but exquisite cries belong to him, I can't tell for certain. These thoughts are not going to help me abate mygrowing erection; I am, after all, seventeen, and still a virgin. If that seems pathetic to you, I don't give a damn. Not to say that I have never noticed the vast selection of men my age out there, sleek, sultry beauties, with dark almond shaped eyes and honey colored skin, or blonde locks and crimson lips. But when it comes down to it, and it usually does, there is a certain type of guy I really go for-a man with silky alabaster skin, a taut, muscled frame, and piercing blue eyes. Mysterious though he is, rough around the edges, taciturn.Yeah, My kind of guy.

Since these musings seem only to further remind me of the engorged organ between my legs, I should probably try to fill my mind with things I do not find arousing. Breasts. Another hastened cry erupts from down the hall. Boobs. Squeaking mattress. Stifled groans. Tits. My eyes wandered down, only to greet the sight of my stiffened penis, mocking me, refusing to disappear. This isn't working.

I allow a low sigh to escape my lips, as the feral sounds of sex continue, and I submit, peeling back the sweat soaked sheets from my nude form. I might as well indulge myself now.

I sleep naked, as it's the only way I feel comfortable, and for some reason, I enjoy the feeling of the sheets against my bare skin. I close my eyes, sliding my sweaty palm down my stomach, briefly raking my fingers through pubic hair before I encircle my hand loosely around my hardened penis, directing my fingers in an upward motion, barely grazing skin. I began to lightly massage the head of my erection, my breath quickening, and I open my eyes. Okay, I'm not being arrogant, or bragging, but fully erect, my cock isn't something to be ashamed of. Maybe someday day soon I'll show Heero what I have to offer. I felt the barest indication of a smile ghost over my mouth, as I began sliding my fingertips over my length to build up a rhythm. Momentarily lost in my swoon, I had managed to ignore the grating feral moans, when I was jarred by another hoarse groan. Knitting my brow together, I clamped my fingers around the girth of my penis, almost painfully tight, and began to roughly pump my erection. I felt my lips quiver, my body giving way to slight tremors, and heard a low rasping whimper. Was that really my voice?

Some distance off, I caught the murmur of a moan, only spurring me to increase my speed and the pressure of my grip, approaching culmination. I gave a hushed gasp and felt my body go rigid as I climaxed, ejaculating into my palm. I inhaled, feeling my rib cage expand as my penis went flaccid in my hand. The scarce scent of perspiration and slightly salty fragrance of semen filled my nose. Too bad it's mine. I lied back against the pillows, my body covered in a faint sheen of fresh sweat. I felt a bead of perspiration trickle down my temple, and curve into my collarbone, prompting irritation. I extend my hand and wiped my brow. That's when I discovered I'd just used to hand I shot my wad into wipe my face. Great. I swore, sitting up, feeling the viscous fluid on my skin, and slapped my forehead in reproach, creating more of a mess. Wonderful Duo, be sure to use this sort of finesse and charm when you try to woo the King of Hearts. I realized some of the sticky substance had managed to get smeared into my bangs, and I sneered, as I did my best to rake it out. How do I get into these situations?

Forcing myself to rise, I lowered my feet to the floor, momentarily feeling the dull sting of cold floorboards as I disentangled myself from the blankets, and fumbled in the darkness for my boxers. I stumble only briefly as I searched for the garment, and stepping into it, I swiftly tugged them up to my waist. Why am I not Mr. Smooth Operator today? Mr. Smooth would never falter like a blind man in the dark, or wipe his own cum on his face. I feel addled. Stepping over the shadows cast across the floor, I parted the door wide, cringing as it gave a dull creak. I am welcomed only by eerie silence, and a darkened hall, and moonlight streaming in from the window behind me giving the atmosphere a silver glow. Feeling oddly like an intruder, I meander my way down the hall toward the bathroom, only steps away, when it happened. There came a fresh barrage of groans, and squeaking box springs. I am but a few feet away, and the sounds are magnified. I leaned my back against the wall, and released a heavy emission of air. Why does this remind me of that Simon and Garfunkel song Cecilia? How did the lyrics progress, Cecilia, you're breaking my heart, you're shaking my confidence daily, Oh Cecilia, I'm down on my knees, begging you please. I don't recall the rest. I despise feeling sorry for myself. I was definitely surer of winning him over when I had my penis in my hand. Funny how that goes.

I hadn't really noticed, but gradually I had been drawing nearer toward the door at the end of the hall, numb footfalls, leading me closer. Another low moan, less audible, but it had its effect, stirring my attention, and my groin. A moth transfixed with a flickering flame-A flame that sears. I felt my quaking hands slide to the slit in the front of my boxers, groping blindly to withdraw my penis, as I began to caress the flesh. What would it be like to be the one caught in a tangle of sweat stained sheets with Heero? Warring for dominance, exchanging fervent and firm kisses, getting to know him with my fingertips. A soft smile creased over my lips, though shrouded by the shadows. I remember the rest of the song. Making love in the afternoon with Cecilia, up in my bedroom. I could get lost in that.

In fact, so lost was I in my sexual reverie, I was not aware of the bedroom door being drawn ajar, and abruptly smacking me in the face, until wood blocked out all my vision, and I felt the sharp sting of the impact. Caught off guard I teetered and fell, landing hard on my rear. Oh hell. Heero? I leveled my gaze, groping the darkness with my eyes. No. Worse. Trowa. And speaking of wood, here I was, sprawled out on the hallway floor, my legs parted, and my half hard penis exposed. Shit.


	2. Mystify Me

Okay, I am officially having fun with this. Sequel to "For the Sake of Pleasure" told from Duo's point of view. Credit to the lovely and wonderful Kim for providing the personas of Heero and Trowa, Much love! And P.S. The fragmented sentences are supposed to be there.

Mystify Me

I do admit, with much embarrassment, that when the door struck me in the face, a small yelp escaped my mouth. Whether that makes me less of a man, I don't know. A good run of bad luck. I mean, what are the odds? The current boyfriend finding the lustful, slightly melancholy want to be boyfriend lurking around outside the bedroom he shares with the object of my desire? Not good odds for me. Momentarily beside myself with shock, all I can do is gawk in my confusion, flummoxed, flustered, and exposed. I must have looked like a complete ass, since my wits were scattered, and my cool and confident veneer, momentarily shattered. Yet I still had one element in my favor-the hallway was mostly eclipsed in shadows, concealing my dumbfounded gape, and fortuitously, my now lax penis, still on display, revealed through the slit in my boxers. Not so cocky now. No pun intended. So here I lie, spread eagle before my rival, and he is merely staring back at me, his eyes widened in partial surprise, gazing where he assumed my face to be in the darkness. Momentarily saved.

"You gave me a fright", he said lowly. I would have commented on the tenor of his voice, slightly higher from how he usually addresses me, in a smooth monotone. The pitch only faintly wavered, but I still caught it. I did my best to nod in casual agreement, and thankfully, he did not inquire as to why I was slinking around in the shadows before their bedchamber, so I didn't supply an answer. Good thing too, for in my daze I hadn't been able to probe my mind for a sufficient soft-spoken half-truth, to explain myself. He stepped slowly around me, and I noticed for a brief moment a brief falter in his gait, and then he disappeared into the bathroom. I felt a momentary lapse of sympathy, and then my attention was drawn back to the matter at hand, and swiftly tucking myself back into my boxers, I scrambled to my feet, lest Heero should appear and further my plight, and promptly returned to my quarters to lick my wounds from the privacy of my own room. As much as I feel bad for Trowa at the moment, there is an adequate portion of my brain lamenting over the fact that I would have liked to cum a second time this night. But currently, I'm too rattled to attend to that matter. Funny how that goes.

I managed to rouse the next morning around nine, feeling only somewhat awkward and beside myself, but determined to not allow such sentiments to influence my demeanor. After taking a few minutes to stretch, and not bothering to change yet, I languidly made my way into the kitchen, to find the both of them seated at the table, Trowa eating breakfast, and Heero occupying himself with his usual morning task-reading the morning newspaper.Very much unlike my usual morning task, which consists of masturbating in the shower. But for the moment that can wait. I proceeded to seat myself before them, Heero giving me an acknowledging nod, and Trowa raising his head for a quick glance, but his eyes lingered.

Ignoring the scrutiny, I gave a cordial smile and voiced, "morning Heero." No response, but his eyes remained focused on my features.

Quirking a brow and regarding them both, I inquired, "what?" Heero lowered his gaze faintly, and questioned sternly, "whom have you brought into this apartment?"

I eyed him, and then replied simply, "Nobody," while he continued to eye me. Trowa's gaze did not falter either, but he looked more indifferent than anything else, and I felt Heero's gaze on me still, pinning me on the spot.

I heard him ask, "Then whose semen is on your face?" I probably blanched for a moment, then I felt my features quickly burn a deep shade of crimson, as I sheepishly extended my hand to rub the dried cum off my forehead. I had forgotten about that.

"It's mine," I managed to mumble.

I glanced at Trowa to distinguish the barest hint of amusement evident on his face. Great. Heero continued to study me, and plucking up my courage, I gave a smooth grin, then leaned over to him, and wiped my forehead against his shoulder. He regarded me strangely. If he won't swallow my semen, the least he can do is wear it for a while. He growled, seemingly unaffected, and all I can do is smile.

Perhaps I am crude, perhaps I'm too forward, and perhaps I'm too brash. But I cannot craft poetry, weave words into rhyme; I get my tongue tied up in knots. I would choke on my chagrin of performing a serenade. I am not soft spoken, my voice falters. I can't do everything, but just the same, I'd still do anything for you. Do not label me as the doting minstrel, courting the comely prince, though Heero does have a regal beauty. So this is my unabashed, unorthodox, unrefined way of saying, I like you.

Too much?

Jarred from my moment of introspection, I saw Heero nonchalantly get up from the table, and exit the room. I know I should not follow; it's too risky right now. But I will anyway. I wait a few moments, and then rise from my position, under the pretense of entering the living room. But I veer to the right, and down the hall. What am I planning to do? I don't know. He is not in his bedroom; I detect no sounds from within. I enter my own room, and quickly pulled on a pair of blue jeans, buttoning them as I reemerge into the hallway. That's when I become aware of a light on in the bathroom, and the noise of running water. The Shower. Do I dare? Oh yes, I dare.

Approaching the door, I silently reach out and clasp the cold steel knob, and part the door ajar, before boldly taking several steps forward. Heero. Completely nude. Completely wet. Completely beautiful. What waking wet dream have I wandered into? His figure is silhouetted behind the plastic curtain, but it does not conceal much. Suddenly these jeans feel keenly constricting. I should not leer, but just the same, I cannot tear my gaze away from him, I do not want to miss a detail. A cheap thrill maybe, but worth it. Becoming aware of my presence, he drew back the curtain, and studied me in question. Yes, it gets better.

I do not speak right away, and it is plainly obvious that I am not looking him in the eye. It cannot be helped, a body this perfectly sculpted, free of flaw, should not exist in nature.

"What do you require?" He asks me plainly, but I barely hear him. My eyes are lingering on his groin, intrigued by the fact that he is not circumcised, so much more arousing. I wonder if I asked him to turn around if he would comply. Doubtful.

I lift my gaze and regard him intently, the word tumblingfrom my lips without heed.

"You."

He appears puzzled, and then asks, "What do you need me to do?"

His cluelessness is adorable.

I lick my lips. He is acutely tempting me with his words, such implications.

Slowly my vision is lured back to his genitals, and it is all I can do, not to kneel before him, and lick off the bead of water sliding down his penis from the stream of water washing down his chest. I am transfixed with this. I bet I could make him cry out, succumb to abandon and moan my name, quake beneath my touch. I respond distractedly.

"Touch yourself."

His reply is a harsh command to exit, and giving one last longing glance, I assent, shutting the door soundlessly behind me. But itis too late; I am already forming a plan. Mystified, and now the damage cannot be undone, and all I can do is smile.


	3. Three's Company

Sequel to "Mystify Me," yes, the sexual tension continues. The fragments are there on purpose, so please don't correct me. Warning: plot twists and sexual scenes ahead. Yum. Enjoy!

Three's Company

Now, there are various things about the happy couple that I have discerned. First, I have reason to speculate that a significant portion of their relationship is solely based on sex. Example, it's Friday night, I am seated by myself on the sofa as usual, and Trowa abruptly enters, Heero latches onto his arm, and practically drags him towards the bedroom. This occurs sequentially every week. If I started timing it, I could accurately inform you that every Friday evening, Trowa arrives, and stays for the duration of four hours, before departing. I am not naive by any means, nor deaf, so I am fully aware of what befalls when they retreat to the bedroom. In fact, to satisfy some perverse whim, I often find myself listening at the door. Do not judge me.

Occasionally, they do venture out in the evenings, on either Mondays or Wednesdays, to what destination, I'm uncertain. The most logical guess would be that they go to restaurants, or clubs, but for the life of me, I cannot envision Heero dancing. I mean, don't misunderstand me, he is an elegant traditional dancer, I have witnessed him turn a twirl with Miss Relena before, but Trowa was unable to be coerced into the act. Personally I have never considered dancing in that fashion with another guy before, because frankly, I have no clue who would lead. If it were Heero, on a hunch, I'd say he'd fight for that role. I suppose it's complicated. But, the notion of Heero immersing himself amongst a group of free style dancers and busting a move, seems highly unlike him. Now, I do not deem myself a poor dancer, by any means-and I am not being arrogant, I just know how to carry myself. I would love to instruct him in this area, because the notion of drawing him close, securing my hands on his hips, and gyrating my pelvis into his upon a brightly lit dance floor amid a sea of bodies in motion seems wonderful. I digress.

More often than not, I spend the period of my free time from work alone. Well, that is, without lover, without date. I did mention that I was single didn't I? Perhaps it was implied. Though periodically, Hilde will arrange something or once in a while if I can manage it, I spend time with Quatre. On most blessed incidents, I can actually persuade him into accompanying me to a club. If things are really going favorably, I can coax him onto the dance floor, because no one ever said the cordial and refined heir of the Winner family wasn't allowed to have some fun right? But do not misconstrue my efforts, as attractive as he is, my interest is purely platonic. Besides, I've got the King of Hearts to pine after. Now that I consider it, as far as I know, Quatre is unaware of Trowa's relationship with Heero, and perhaps, I had better not tell him. Sometimes it is better not to know, right?

Now peculiar to note, but I have ascertained that on certain days of the week, Trowa and Heero both attend a yoga class. Personally, I would so much rather just limit my physical exercise to the gym and basketball. Apparently, these sessions are sought to improve flexibility, and I do not need to take a guess why that would be useful. But unfortunately, sexual aerobics are out of my range of expertise. I do not need to be told that Trowa is a limber acrobat, most circus freaks are. Okay, Okay, I admit, that was a cheap shot. I don't mean to say that I dislike Trowa outright when in actuality we get along fairly well. But a man gets jealous, and I'm sure in some dark part of his mind he has probably slandered me too. I have always loved a challenge, but competition, not so much. Anyway, I'm going off on another tangent.

This afternoon, when I casually inquired where they were spending their afternoon, I was invited to tag along to their class. I could have easily said no, ended it right there, but you know what? I did not. Why? Simple. Heero smiled at me. He asked if I would like to join them, with the faint curve of a smile tugging at his lips, perhaps because I must have looked like a puzzled imbecile, so I agreed. Sucker. So sign me up, for folly and potential embarrassment, because Heero Yui graced me with a smile. It was worth it.

Could it be my imagination, or did Trowa glance at me with a faint glimmer of jealous in his eyes? I bet he is insulting me in his mind right now. I told you.

What exactly does one wear to yoga class? Being out of my element, I chose the usual attire I wear to the gym, athletic shorts and a T-shirt. Another aspect of Heero's personality that I have noticed, he is by no means shy about nudity. Which is eagerly welcome, more eye candy for me. This supposition was reinforced when we were in the locker room and he merely strips off his garments before me, and proceeds to change. Perhaps if it had not been Heero, I would have gauged it as a come on, for even I am not that dense. But, it is Heero, and honestly, I think his ability to judge that someone is hitting on him is even more off than mine.

I fancy Trowa has caught me leering at his beau, and he gives me a suspicious look, as I tug my T-shirt over my head. But nothing can prepare me for what transpired next.

I find my gaze wandering over to Heero inadvertently, as he finished dressing in an all too familiar, plain pair of black spandex shorts. Perhaps I am neurotic. Perhaps I am odd. But I think I have some sort of twisted, obscure fetish for Heero donning those shorts, because now I cannot peel my eyes away from him. I had spent a good portion of my time furtively ogling him in that garb when we were but two years younger, and I surmised he had stopped wearing this said garment because certain physical attributes had started to mature. If you catch my drift. This is either some stroke of sheer luck, or some sadistic torture.

Heero regards me in question, for my gawking has become quite evident. But I can't pay it heed, because my vision has already trailed down to his crotch, noticing the sizable bulge through the taut material. Then I heard Trowa clear his throat.

I elevated my vision to study Heero, still fixated, as he tossed me a mat. I let it fall. Heero gave me a particularly odd look, and all I could do was smile awkwardly, and without removing my gaze lowered slightly and picked it up. Heero raised a brow, then advanced to exit, and I quickly followed. Who in their right mind would want to miss this rear view?

Was I intruding on some invisible boundary between them by being there? Or was it some private act that they only shared together? Maybe. Even more so, because I insisted on sitting beside Heero, leaving Trowa on my right, and myself in the middle. I will not agonize over the details of this class, which I found out to be advanced, and that I was in over my head. Great. I consider myself physically fit, but some of these moves and poses were stretching muscles I was scarcely accustomed to be using. But as if to repay me for intruding his space, I glanced at Trowa, and to my irritation, or perhaps purposefully to annoy me, he began simulating sexual poses to get Heero's attention on the other side of me. It worked. Heero looked past me, focusing his gaze on Trowa, disregarding the lesson.

Growing slightly irate, I dispelled a low sigh, and vexed, "knock it off, I'm in the middle of this." This was when Heero turned to regard me, and much to my inherent dismay, stated, "join us." And all I can do is gape.

I felt my body tense, and not knowing what else to do I averted my eyes. Yes, Mr. Smooth is definitely gone for right now. I felt Trowa's eyes boring holes in the back of my skull on my right, and I snapped my head up to gaze at Heero when he imposed his hand on my shoulder in a persuasive manner and averred with a feather soft smile, "you must." Danger Zone.

Perhaps Heero has discovered that his smile is my weakness, perhaps he knows he is keenly tempting me. But didn't George Michael once say sex is best when it's one on one?

I searched my mind for a response, but words are traitorous right now, and my mind is jumbled.

I drew in a slight breath, trying to for a reply, but all I could marshal was a low, "hey Heero, I don't know"...my words tapering off. Hopeless.

I studied Heero, finding the intensity of his gaze almost crippling. I sat there for some time, trying to fathom his thoughts, and warring with my conflicting emotions. In a feeble attempt to ease the tension, I gave a small awkward smile.

"Are you timid Duo"? I heard Trowa utter in a dry taunting manner, and I bristled.

"I have nothing to hide," I countered firmly. Such a fallacy.

Heero smiled more broadly. That seals my fate. Charmed by a mere smile. But there is so much in that simple gesture. What have I gotten myself into?

I remember nothing of the journey back to Heero's apartment; I am too distracted for logical thought. Immediately inside, Heero begins to slowly strip off his garments, Trowa following suit, but my attention is on Heero. I remain still, my limbs feel numb, my feet glued to the floor. Unwittingly, I feel a faint flush creep over my features, the tips of my ears burning scarlet. I cannot help it, he is radiant. It is not like me to be so hesitant, but is this really happening? I could memorize every contour of his body, the curve of his biceps, the pallor of his skin, could I spend an entire evening kissing that mouth and be content? I believe I could.

He approaches me, reaching out for my hand, but my palms are clammy with perspiration. Why are they shaking? He smoothes his fingertips over my arm, coasting my wrist, and I feel goose bumps prickle my skin. What is he doing to me? I cave.

I kiss him abruptly, a simple gesture, but it means so much to me. Madness. His lips cannot be this gentle and warm. I pull him close, adhering my hands to his hips, stroking flawless skin with clumsy caresses. He closes his arms around my waist, clasping a fistful of my shirt, seeking to discard it, but I am too distracted. There is perfection here, in the simplest of physical gestures, and I am lost. But he is yielding to it, he does not push me away, he does something infinitely more divine; he parts his lips, and slips his tongue into my mouth. Now I am the one yielding, struggling to remain grounded as he works some secret spell, bending me to his will. I have never been so at the mercy of someone else. How can I allow this? How can I not?

I pull back only briefly, lingering, his saliva on my lips, in my mouth. It is almost too much to bear.

I manage a whisper, "I've never done this before." I could trust him with that, but Trowa and I have a habit of good-natured ribbing, and I'm not sure my male pride could withstand a jest aimed at my inexperience.

Heero's eyes widen slightly in surprise, and Trowa's words brought me back to reality.

"No secrets," he spoke lowly, but a response was stifled, as Heero quickly kissed me again.

He is working my weaknesses, he must be, and I'm feeling very reckless. One more touch and I might come undone. I think he knows this. There is passion beneath these soft kisses, an ardent desire, I can feel it, and he is working to unravel me.

In deft executions, he coasts his hands over my back, cupping my rear, then his fingertips roaming to the drawstring of my shorts. Trowa cleared his throat. Damn him.

"Gentlemen, may we proceed in the bedroom"? I heard him speak. Heero nodded, and ceased. I missed his touch instantly.

Heero began walking in the direction of the bedroom, but paused briefly, beckoning to me with an open gesture of his hand. What have I gotten myself into?


	4. Come Undone

Well the plot continues, Sequel to "Three's Company", things get more interesting. Enjoy!

Come Undone

Perhaps I'm behaving foolishly, perhaps I'm overlooking a good thing, but when I set out in this makeshift quest to gain Heero's attention and affection, I didn't anticipate being literally caught in the between the two of them. So what am I to do? I'm left standing here, my feet firmly fixed to the floor, painfully aroused, and hopelessly entranced by the prospect of even five minutes in the bed of Heero Yui for pleasures unknown. Heero has this affect on me, clouded senses, and impaired judgment. The bound prisoner walking blindly without regrets, with a ridiculous smile plastered on his lips, no fear. I am on a sinking ship, but I don't ever remember signaling for help. There is no white flag-I do not surrender. What am I to do? Follow. There really was never any doubt; an invisible tether guides me.

Caution. The first step is the most difficult, but the next could be my last.

My steps are slow and measured, it required a great deal of effort to persuade myself to move, but I comply. The bedroom is veiled in shadow; I had almost forgotten it was early evening. Why do most people only want to have sex at night? Personally, I have nothing against some afternoon delight, but I diverge. Squinting my eyes, I focus on Heero, who has just gruffly pushed Trowa onto the bed, holding him down, and kissing him firmly. Well, I could have done nicely without being exposed to that. It is the price you pay for a taste of heaven.

I was not even aware that they engaged in foreplay, which opens the door, just a crack for me. Their labors persist for a while, and strangely, I find myself unimpassioned. Not that I do not find the image of pretty boys kissing and touching each other alluring, but does it make me too sentimental to say that I think I'm the only one Heero should be with? Even so, I still want it.

I see Heero halt finally, angling his head in my direction to study me. I return his intense stare, a contemplative regard, sizing each other up. There has always been this underlying connection between Heero and I, to challenge one another. It's amazing. We lock gaze, an intimate exchange, and once more, he gestures to me to come forward with an open hand. I linger in the doorway only briefly, but he moves faster. In a moment he is on his feet, encircling his arms around my midsection and lifting me into the air. I'm too stunned to react. No sooner had I considered it, he has me on the bed, crowning my body with his own, and straddling my legs. I had not expected him to work so fast. I succumb just as quickly, leaning in to his touch, smoothing my hands over the expanse of his back as he began to softly kiss my neck, razing tender skin with his teeth, applying suction.

Like a flickering flame, a candle in the wind, I am given this brief fleeting chance at bliss before the shadows ascend and smother it.

What now would the voices of my past say? I was instructed to be stalwart, autonomous, invulnerable. I have built the impenetrable tower on the impossibly high precipice, out of reach, untouchable. So why now does this boy crumble the fortress to the ground with a single touch? Cast the castle down, burning, and rend me asunder. Even now he is attempting to disencumber me with questing fingers, stretching the seams, already the tie with reality is severed-I'm lost in this moment. So much so, that I almost forget about Trowa. Almost. I notice him glowering at me faintly out of the corner of my eye, but I can't pay him mind, as I far more interested in the act of Heero's palms roaming over my body, his lips against my throat, and I feel warm breath against my ear.

Doesn't it just seem that everything was building up to this moment?

I do not care what anyone says, there is a much more genteel, gallant side to Heero, beneath the quiescent exterior and solemn features and words unspoken. Such is revealed in ginger ministrations and tentative touches, among mingled glances, kisses, and caresses. There is so much more to this boy than anyone will ever truly fathom, who do not take the time to fathom what lies beyond the smoldering blue eyes. For what do I deserve this insight into this enigma? There are many things I would like to say to him about this, but I don't know how.

My hands look crude and flawed on this immaculate skin. I will taint you. But I kiss him still.

He reciprocates, as I cup his chin and tilt his head, meshing our lips together.

I heard Trowa clear his throat again, jarring me from my private euphoria.

"I will watch you two fuck-however Heero, I get my dick sucked till I cannot get hard." His voice was nonchalant, as he sat down in a nearby chair. I couldn't help myself from cringing. I wanted Heero all to myself.

Heero nodded, and before I could regain my bearings, he kissed me ardently, pushing me back down onto the mattress, and grinding his hips into mine. That got my attention. Immediately I began to match his motions, and I felt a low moan escape my lips. Was that really my voice?

Heero seemed pleased, and an idea quickly crossed my mind, and then I rose, flipping Heero over and reversing our positions so I was sitting on his abdomen, pinning his arms to the bed and kissing him fervently.

He yielded, and gave a small grin, suggestive, and spoke soberly, "ride my penis." Now that got my attention.

Now on this subject, I am keenly conflicted. Whereas just as Heero fancies himself a top, so do I. As much as I am enamored with this boy, this is not something I will quickly submit to.

I returned his smile, cocking my head to the side and suggested, "or, you could ride mine." No response. In fact, he overtly frowned. Damn.

I tried to quell him, by imposing another soft kiss, smoothing my hands over his chest, but no response, he lay still like a cold fish.

And the candle flickers out.

It was as though a fire was extinguished, flames doused, and only ribbons of smoke remain to indicate it had ever existed. And all I can do is gape.

I heard a low laugh off to my right. I am being mocked.

"Heero is anal-about being top." Trowa averred, and I gave him a sidelong glance.

Heero was silent, and made absent gestures to rise, and exit the room. I remained frozen in a half crouching position from where I had formerly been sitting.

"He does not like that," Trowa repeated, and I felt agitation rise in my tone.

"I gathered that," I replied lowly, with a faintly icy quality in my voice.

I saw him smirk, then he mused lowly, "I even let him get his way- I suppose he is the sort of man who deserves to get what he wants."

I studied him, and then responded dryly, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were pleased with my misfortune."

He lifted his eyes, and voiced simply, "no-rather empathy." Now that I did not expect that.

I paused,and then on a whim, decided to pose the query that had been picking at my brain.

"Why were you willing to allow this"? I asked lowly, focusing on him.

He eyed me, and replied calmly, "To please him. With us it is just sex anyway, so why not?" Interesting. My mind is too jumbled right now with my own plight, and I gave a snort.

"I wouldn't know," I muttered.

"Would you care to learn"? He asked flatly, and at that I snapped my head up, quirking a brow at him. He smirked again.

Maybe Trowa is the sort of guy who, with little regard to the person, could have sex no questions asked. Nothing against that, but I'm not that type.

He got up soundlessly, and exited the room as well, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Damnit. I'm going to die a virgin.


	5. The Duel

lol just when you thought it was over...it's not! Sequel to "Come Undone," enjoy!  
  
Gundam Wing-copyright Sunrise/Sotsu Agency. Yadda Yadda Yadda.  
  
As follows, the songs I have mentioned so far in my fanfiction.  
  
1. Simon and Garfunkel - Cecilia  
2. INXS - Mystify  
3. George Michael - I want your sex  
4. Duran Duran - Come Undone

The Duel  
  
Well, it has been precisely two days since my blunder at ecstasy, and it seems as though nothing ever befell. It is the equivalent of tripping the finish line, so close, but in the end so interminable far. Of a door being opened, then promptly shut in your face-Abrupt, offensive, and confounding. Good-bye sweet caresses, tender kisses, hello emptiness, hello solitude. So what was I left to do? Slink away with my tail between my legs, oh I abhor that analogy.   
  
I have already stated I am not adept at romance. I am no poet-I'm a mechanic. Where words of eloquence might exist, I have sarcasm. Where gentle touch should be I have a firm right hook. So how do I court the boy with the vivid blue eyes, whom I believe deep down needs these things? I'm at a loss. I don't think he's aware that I'm more than the so-called jester, the brash nomad, and the lonely soldier. So what can I offer him? I'm searching, beyond the mirror's reflection, for the better part of me. And it's not easy. This boy makes me what to step outside my boundaries, to tear down the walls, and that chills me to the bone.  
  
Though my pride was severely wounded from rejection, I have done my best to conceal this, especially since Heero has behaved as usual, possessing a calm demeanor and delivering only terse replies in conversation. That does not deter me-my mind cannot chase away the memory of what occurred two days prior.  
  
I have been masturbating more frequently.  
  
So, now it is another Friday night, and I am situated alone in my room with no companion save the television. Go me.  
  
There is a news broadcast featured tonight involving the "secret identity of the Gundam pilots." I surmise the only reason our roles have not been revealed are due to the fact that despite everything, we are still technically considered minors, that is, for another year. Those in the know have refused to release any information regarding that subject, and for their discretion I am thankful. Yet one can only avoid reporters and cameras for so long.   
  
Unfortunately, poor Quatre and Miss Relena are not immune to the scrutiny of the media-Quatre being the famed heir of the wealthy Winner family, and Relena, well, royalty. If my speculations are accurate, Mr. Winner might be paying us a visit soon, as he has been out of the camera's eye for several days now. That means, he has managed to shirk his duties for a while and is going to mingle with the common folk. Heh.  
  
It is suddenly brought to my attention that the house is still and silent. Heero must not have gotten lucky tonight. I wonder if Trowa's absence has anything to do with Quatre. Interesting.  
  
I hesitant for a second, holding my breath, as I detect the faint sound of footsteps in the hall, a soft rapping.  
  
They do not veer off to the right, but continue on, towards me.  
  
Round Two?  
  
Excellent.  
  
I roll onto my stomach, propping my chin up on my hand, and divert my attention to the television. But it is of no concern to me. My focus is on the silent figure tarrying in the doorway. He entered without a sound, but I can feel his eyes on me. I have never encountered someone with such a magnetic presence, it is almost overpowering.  
  
I grin at him, unable to resist, and inquire, "What's the matter stud? Isn't tonight party night?" I love to tease him sometimes. It produced the expected result, for he frowned at me. I am not discouraged.  
  
"Did I strike a nerve"? I asked with an amused smile. Heero only stared at me, his eyes having a far away, intense quality, lingering on me. Heero has the distinct ability to convey so much without words, which I believe contributes to his rather reticent personality. Who needs to speak when you are able to express so much in just a glance? That only makes him even more appealing.  
  
We lock gaze, his mouth still, forming no words. I fear to break this silence that has settled in the room like a thick cloud, for fear of sundering this quiet intimacy between us. This is such delicious torture.  
  
I have always liked that often, that we can speak volumes without uttering a word, a special ability reserved only for the two of us.  
  
If I listen intently and concentrate, I catch the erratic sound of his heart thrumming in his chest. Or was that mine, beating like a drum inside my cavity? It is a sonorous echo in my ears.  
  
My palms are slick with perspiration.  
  
I dare to speak, cutting the silence with an invisible knife.  
  
"Are you going to sit down"? It was a low utterance, suggestive, an invitation.   
  
He makes no response, as if frozen in some private dream.   
  
This exchange is akin to a pair about to engage in a duel, weapons raised resulting in the clash of steel. But it is not formidable, nor meant to alarm, it is more playful, more erotic-the war for dominance or equality, the testing of waters, of measuring the will of each other, of deciding who will impose the first move.   
  
I have lifted my blade, now I move to strike.  
  
I voiced his name lowly, and I saw him blink, flitting out of a reverie.  
  
He spoke in question, "Hm"? I felt a smirk crease over my lips, and I replied, "Are you lonely without your boy toy?"  
  
It was a challenge, a request to continue our spar.  
  
He emitted a low humming noise, distracted, while I searched his gaze in question, seeking the returning strike.  
  
His next statement caught me off guard.  
  
"You are immaculate, I want to engage in intercourse with you." I had not expected him to be that direct.   
  
I felt much to my chagrin my features burn a light shade of scarlet. No one had ever called me perfect.  
  
He studied me, and I'm not sure if there was a faint degree of amusement on his features. I disregarded it.  
  
I think he is aware he has the upper hand now that the reigns of control have shifted.  
  
He approaches me, pure poetry in motion, a slow saunter, and climbs onto the bed.  
  
Challenge accepted.


	6. Battle Tactics

Sequel to "The Duel", I do love my sexual tension, heh heh heh. Enjoy!

Gundam Wing is copyright Sunrise/Sotsu agency, etc. etc. etc.

Battle Tactics

And so, as I have taken it upon myself to seduce the King of Hearts, I have found that I am the one that has been entrapped. Perhaps furtively, he has been seeking the same goal as I, but that seems far too much to hope for. Whether it be the work of some sinister spell, or the natural charm of this bewitching boy, I am entirely entranced. Where I was trying to weave some web to snare him, I did not realize he was already closing in on me.

And I allowed myself to be caught.

For you see, I am already at the mercy of his touch, so acutely enamored with a glance, desperate for just one more kiss.

It comes down to this.

The stage is set. So.

Lights. Camera. Action.

I am an excellent performer, but I allow myself now, to act simply on my feelings. I see the danger in this, but I am too far-gone.

Who could turn back now?

In seconds he crawls over to me, a predator cornering its prey, seating himself on my lower back, forcing me to lie on my stomach. I permitted it, but my muscles were faintly taut, anticipating his next move.

But he has caught me off guard again.

Adhering his legs to my sides, he began smoothing his palms over my shoulders, applying firm pressure, sliding his fingertips over the curve of my shoulder blades, and then tracing the contour of my spine. I felt my eyes close, at the command of his touch.

He continues to coast his hands over my back, massaging the skin in slow ministrations, kneading the flesh and I feel a low groan tumble from my parted lips.

Why does he have that ability on me? To draw utterances as one would draw water from a well.

Proceeding, he directs his exploring hands down the expanse of my lower back, then pushing my T-shirt up, and skimming his palms over bare skin. Should I be ashamed that I trembled?

He persisted for a length, then slowly, leaned down, and skimmed his tongue over the shell of my ear.

He fights dirty.

I confess that I shivered, as he began to suck on my earlobe, and I dispelled another guttural moan. He began rocking his hips, grinding his pelvis into my buttocks, while biting my neck, searing skin with his teeth. Unwittingly I began to gyrate my hips in response, only briefly unaware that I had murmured his name.

I was startled when he began to grind his erection against my rear.

Granted, I was perfectly aware of my own painfully hard penis, pinned beneath my weight and his against the mattress. I tensed somewhat, my limbs going rigid, but before I could vocalize my protests, he suddenly leapt up, landing with ease on the floor, and bolted down the hall.

What the hell?

Now I understand, that Heero is quirky in his mannerisms, unorthodox, but this was baffling.

I sat up, imposing my knees against the mattress, and waited to see if he would return. Sure enough, he reappeared several minutes later, holding in his hand, a tube of lubrication and a condom in a plastic wrapper. I eyed him silently.

Studying me, he began to undress, and I regarded him intently. As if unaware of my blatant leering, he stripped off his shirt, followed by his jeans, and then discarded his boxers.

I will never get over the image of Heero naked.

Nor, will I get over the sight of his fully erect penis.

My mouth may have dangled open, my breath may have hitched, but so be it. I cannot guess the exact size, but it was impressive.

I smiled faintly, then turn my attention to his features, and posed a low query, futile probably, as I was already certain of the answer.

"I assume you want to be top"? I inquired. He replied simply, as if stating a fact, "I am top."

I see.

I gazed at him, masking my uncertainty, when he spoke, "Instead, I will rim you and give you a fellatio."

I scanned my brain quickly, but could produce no result for what that term meant. Before I could restrain myself, I questioned, "What's that?"

He smiled at me subtly, and asked, "Which?"

I already felt like an idiot.

I paused, and then repeated lowly, "Fellatio." He gazed at me, and responded nonchalantly, "oral stimulation of your penis."

That beautiful, velvet soft mouth around my engorged member? Sign me up.

I wondered if I was drooling.

He gazed at me soberly, and stated, "make your penis accessible."

So Heero is not familiar with foreplay, I could teach him.

I rose to my haunches, then stood up on the bed, and quickly cast off my shirt, tossing it at him. I saw him frown, a faint degree of annoyance evident on his face. I only smirked, then slid my boxers off, wadding them into a ball, and throwing them at him, the garment connected with his face.

He glared at me, but unlike most, I do not quiver and cower beneath his glower, in fact, I find that sultry brooding look quite sexy.

This is battle of a different sort for us, which I believe feeds off our former rivalry of long ago, where former comrades vie for dominance and words are challenges, caresses are assaults, and a sexual cry is surrender.

But I welcome this brawl, this cross of verbal swords-I find it arousing.

If he is game, I would love to wrestle with him between the sheets, even if he is stronger. It is a very animalistic act; much like sex itself, a whirlwind of carnal embraces and heated glances. But I am still human, even if now, I feel I'm acting solely on some primal instinct.

A faint smile creeps over my lips, mischievous perhaps, and he gazes at me, as if he knows what I'm thinking, and I wouldn't be surprised if he did. I extend my hand to him, outstretched, and just barely flick my index and middle finger in challenge as I arch my right brow subtly. He knows.

Heeding my gesture, he lunged at me abruptly.

He make be taking center stage for the moment, but I am still running the show.


	7. Stripped

No, it isn't over...sequel to "Battle Tactics," enjoy!

I highly recommend the songs "Mercy in You" and "Stripped" of which the title was borrowed. They were an excellent source of inspiration for this segment.

Stripped

Tear up the rulebook. I'm done with this game.

He abruptly leapt at me, and I have no time to react. I fell down on the bed, and then he was above me.

His ministrations were gruff, as I think I upset him with my earlier taunting. But I was seeking to stir him up, and I succeeded. So the point is mine.

He leaned in close to my face, his lips only a few tangible inches from mine, and I feel warm breath on my features. He gazes at me intently, his eyes exploring my own.

I have asked for this, this sweet torment, this unavoidable surrender, welcomed it with open arms, but I do not think I was ready for what I was requesting. I could so easily crumble under his touch; he is seeking to break me. Why is he so strong and all the weakness in me? My resolve is wearing thin, one more caress could break me, and one more kiss could kill me.

So it's his move.

He angles his head slightly, barely grazing my mouth with his own, and then suddenly, he swipes his tongue over my lips, a quick, but sensual gesture.

oh touché.

I don't speak; words are so unnecessary between us. I make motions to rise, as he slides off the bed, straddling my legs and kneeling before me.

There is just something so acutely exciting about seeing Heero's head between my legs.

I felt his teeth barely raze the skin of my inner thigh, and in return I lightly bit my own lip. With clumsy gestures I encouraged him to proceed, squeezing his shoulders in a silent plea, but he did not relent. Perhaps relishing in this, he advanced with languid, teasing gestures, guiding his tongue over quivering skin-I admit I was trembling. I felt my whole body go taut as a drawn crossbow, as his lips faintly grazed my shaft, and then they were gone, then a low whimper discharged from my lips.

So it appears, I am at his mercy. How unsettling.

He imposed a soft kiss on the inside of my thigh, as if to atone for his wrongdoing.

I await his next move, just as an opposing foe, trapped within the walls of their citadel, waits for the next blow to tear through the door and shake the foundations of stone. He will raise my fortress to the ground.

But foe? No. Perhaps, my savior after all.

A dam cannot forever hold the swelling river, just as I cannot withstand this assault much longer. His slightest smile or embrace is as if to say, "How long will you hide in your tower of stone?"

Not long.

Tracing his lips over my skin, he places a tentative kiss on the tip of my erection, and I buckle.

The final blow is delivered, and I cave; the barricade is broken. Bereft of a protective barrier, stripped to the bone, left vulnerable and exposed. I surrender to it. I was fighting the long defeat.

I dispelled a throaty moan, as he began massaging my testicles in his cupped hand, such intimacy I have never experienced before, and I am beside myself.

But he did not cease, and I began raking my fingers through his hair, urging him on, though my motions were distracted and inelegant.

In deliberately slow ministrations, he began to suck on my testicles, actually rolling his tongue. I removed my quaking hands from his shoulders, and laid flat against the bed, grabbing fistfuls of the linens, and emitting a loud groan. He persisted, teasing the sensitive flesh, and before I could will myself to stop, I began to whimper softly.

Such delicious torture.

I will not reiterate my utterances voiced in ecstasy, a serious of colorful words and impassioned cries, because such crude words would cheapen the moment. Also, you would laugh at me.

There was no way around it, he had me beseeching him, at his mercy, and I both liked and hated it at the same time. Pride is forgotten in these heated and hasty moments.

He is going to give me a hickey if he does not desist. Already I am so close to the edge, and he has not even started yet.

I grimaced faintly as the skin became raw, and he sensed this, relenting some, then he tenderly began lapping at the abrasion, and that alone was almost enough to make me shoot my wad. Almost.

I reclined back, giving a louder, guttural moan. He continued with his motions at a tauntingly slow pace.

He finished abruptly, and not expecting it, I raised my head somewhat and cracked an eye open to regard him. Actually, I hadn't remembered closing my eyes. I was transfixed as he gingerly kissed the head of my penis, briefly wetting his lips with his tongue, then in agonizingly measured gestures, he started to suck on the tip. I arched my back, another groan escaping my trembling lips, and it took much reserve not to thrust my hips and plunge my erection into that beautiful, excruciatingly warm and moist mouth. I will not withstand this.

He gradually began to draw my penis further into his throat, and without my willing it, I adhered my legs to his sides. I am getting closer, if he persists, I will rupture.

A little further, three inches. This is sweet madness.

Two inches. Delicious torture.

I can't take anymore.

I felt my body go rigid and I drew in a ragged breath as my eyes fluttered shut and I came with a shout, hopelessly moaning his name, it could not be prevented. I lay still for a moment, and then slowly raised my head to regard him, meeting a very puzzled look. I tensed faintly, realizing my folly, and averted my eyes.

"What befell"? I heard him inquire. All I could do was give a small shrug, and finding my voice I averred lowly, "it felt good."

He quirked his brow faintly, and replied soberly, "I did not even commence." I eyed him momentarily, then muttered, "but you were going to."

A weak defense, but it's all I have.

He studied me, and uttered, "but I did not."

I feel like an ass.

I could feel a flush creeping over my features, and I detested it. I forced my voice to be steady, and returned, "well, I like you."

Damnit, had I really just said that?

Heero regarded me for a moment longer, and I could not read him. Shit.

Slowly he began to rise, and proceeded to exit the room. I jumped to my feet, I wanted him to stay.

But why stay?

Because I wanted him to come? Because I never wanted this to end? Because I like myself better when I'm with him?

Perhaps for all of those reasons.

I followed him into the hall, grabbing his hand quickly and holding him still. He regarded me in question, and unable to resist, I pulled him close, and kissed him firmly. He responded ardently, and I secured my hands on his hips, drawing him nearer, until his penis was flush against my own.

He began to slowly grind his erection against my groin, and stated soberly, "I acutely desire to ejaculate."

I grinned at him, meeting his lips with mine in a swift and fervent pressing, muttering between kisses as I began to lead him back to the bedroom, "Then where were you going?" I asked.

His reply was muffled, "I assumed you were overwhelmed."

I smiled again, cupping my hands against his buttocks, and pushed him back onto the mattress, and voiced simply, "I am."

But this is far from over.


End file.
